


moonstruck

by honeysuckleLove



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, World War II, hugo stops porter from doing it, set in saint-malo, this was originally my creative writing piece for school then i realized i hAD TO COMPLETELY REDO IT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12092640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysuckleLove/pseuds/honeysuckleLove
Summary: I stood in the midst of the rubble, fires burning all around me.





	moonstruck

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this a piece for my english class but i had to completely restart, so i decided to post it here. sorry for it being so short xx

We had bombed the town in the north of France, thinking there was some German headquarters there, but we were wrong. I stood in the midst of the rubble, fires burning all around me. The screams of the Frenchmen in the broken buildings around me echoed, making me feel forlorn and empty in this foreign land.  
I was just barely a man, hanging on the edge of childhood. My mother had sobbed when I left, and my father had just sat there. He was still haunted by the ghosts of the people he had killed in the war a while back.  
All of a sudden, my feet started carrying my body to the shore. I had never really gotten to go to the beach too often as a kid, but my memories of it stuck. The rubbery smell of the highway on the drive there, and then the beauty of the blue waters that pulled me in. At night I would dream of Atlantis, the swell of the water and my deep breaths spilling into Dreamland.  
But this shore was different. The wood from the now rubble floated around. The water looked gray, cold. And the sky was cloudy, or it could have just been smoke from the fires. Either way, I started to lose hope. I took a shaky breath and pulled out the pistol my father had entrusted me with. I couldn’t. It was all gone. My reflection stared back at me in the pearl handle.  
Then I noticed a boy started rowing towards the shore. His face one of worry, and strained from the rowing. When he was within a few feet of shore, he jumped out.  
“Non,” he said calmly, running towards me. He pushed the gun out of my hand. Then he splashed back into the water, helping other people out of the water in boats. I blinked, and he was gone. And then I remembered a word my mother had told me about. Moonstruck.


End file.
